


Underneath It All

by Cameron_McKell



Series: Upon Further Review [6]
Category: Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types, Tron: Evolution, Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: #007FFF "Azure", Circuit Touching, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Non-Human Humanoid Society, Tron Fandom Ship Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-19
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 01:22:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/972679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cameron_McKell/pseuds/Cameron_McKell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has some questions about circuits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Underneath It All

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first chapter to have major differences from that which I posted to Tumblr (the others had some changes, but they were mostly minor), so. Yeah. I'm generally happier with it now.

“They're kind of ridiculously adorable, aren't they?”

 

Tron nodded while Sam slipped an arm around his shoulders, then they both continued watching the fumbling, but rather endearing spectacle; Quorra and Anon were standing rather close together, body language shifting in turns between shy and affectionate, Quorra's eyes bright with near-constant textual communication – Anon hadn't been completely finished by Flynn before being put into service, so he lacked a few basic inputs and outputs, most notably a visual input/output, and an audio output; Quorra didn't seem to mind whether or not there was a face under that helmet, her interest being in Anon himself, and not something cosmetic and easily changeable.

 

Sam let his hand wander to play at Tron's collar, and thought about Rinzler, about his specific repurposing, and how nearly everything that had made Tron himself had been locked away; Rinzler had been a literally faceless killer, voiceless beside that odd, purr-like artefact in his code, which usually cropped up when he was under some form of stress or distress.

 

… Which didn't explain those times Rinzler had spoken.

 

Sam glanced at the top of Tron's head resting on his shoulder. Then again, maybe it did.

 

They continued to watch the fledgling couple for a while, on the off chance that one of them remembered that the four of them had agreed to go racing together almost 95 microcycles ago. Eventually, though, flirtatious body language shifted into flirtatious touches; the results were almost instantaneous, both programs flushing brilliantly violet, Anon just a shade darker and bluer than Quorra, who was almost a shade of pink. Tron stepped away from Sam at this point, catching his hand as it dropped from his shoulders, and tugged the both of them away, to give the two privacy.

 

Sam followed along behind him easily, but his thoughts kept drifting to the immediate and thorough saturation of color between Quorra and Anon, and how he had to slowly tease the color into Tron's circuits. Experimentally, he shifted his grip on Tron's hand slightly, and stroked his thumb over the lines on his hand. There was no immediate surge of color, and when he stopped, as they arrived at a route more friendly to lightcycle travel, he could see just a light tint suffusing the circuitry of his hand, sort of a periwinkle color. It also stayed mostly confined _to_ his hand, whereas with the others it had rapidly spread throughout all of their circuitry.

 

Did it have something to do with the fact that he came from another system originally? Maybe it tied into his age somehow, but no, Quorra wasn't _that_ much younger than him. He doubted that it tied into function, because Anon was also a security monitor.

 

Maybe it had something to do with _Sam_ , some inherent connection he lacked because he was a User, and while he looked like a program when he was here, he _wasn't_ one. The only way he'd find out for sure was to ask, and tying himself into knots worrying about it in the meantime wouldn't help anything.

 

He waited until they'd settled in on a couch at #007FFF, with drinks in hand – Tron's was a milky white, with a taste which Sam's taste buds had translated into almonds and gunpowder the first and last time he'd tried it, while Sam's was a pale honey gold that tasted like a surprisingly pleasant mix of mango and rosemary – before deciding to bring up the topic. Sam hesitated, trying to think of how to start, before giving a mental shrug and just going for it; User turns of phrase tended to backfire spectacularly when it came to using them on Tron – for one thing, he tended to take them literally.

 

“Hey, Tron?”

 

“Hm?” Tron looked at him curiously over the rim of his glass.

 

“You know the color change? In a program's circuitry, I mean,” This would be _so_ much easier if he knew what they called it, “With the touching and stuff. Interfacing? Yeah, interfacing. That. How your circuits turn all purple when we're having a moment?”

 

Tron glanced around quickly, then nodded, and Sam got the unique experience of watching Tron blush; it didn't appear or localize like a User's blush, because Tron had no blood, but was instead a relatively light, but evenly dispersed red-shift over his face. It was adorable.

 

Sam's line of questioning was derailed while he just stared at Tron, and watched the blush slowly fade away.

 

Briefly shaking himself, Sam got back on track, “Anyway, what I'm trying to ask, is why the difference in the amount of, um, _stimulation_ required for the color shift, when people like Anon and Quorra are all set to go at the drop of a hat?”

 

Tron looked down, around their couch as if he'd dropped something, then paused and thought for a moment, “You're asking why I build up power surges slower than the average program?” Sam nodded at that, and Tron frowned slightly, “Is this unacceptable? Has this status negatively impacted our... 'relationship'?”

 

“No! Not at all,” to emphasize this point, Sam tugged at the program to sit closer to him, almost into his lap, “I couldn't be happier...” He trailed off, and began gently rubbing the short circuit at the crook of Tron's elbow, “I just wasn't exactly sure if you were, uh, _satisfied_ with what we do, or if I'm missing some component of the equation, or something.”

 

Reading more into the sentence than just what Sam said, Tron leaned into Sam and implemented a move specific to Users, by lightly biting his ear, followed closely by an even lighter kiss on his jaw. “There's no reason for you to worry, Sam. My power surge accumulation rate is completely standard for my circumstances.”

 

“What circumstances?” Sam finished his drink, then set it aside so his other hand was free to explore the small points and lines of circuits on Tron's abdomen. He could almost see a constellation in their placement...

 

“The first – and most impactful – circumstance is a level of... dilution of all stimulus other than from my dedicated pair.” Sam froze his facial features before they could shift into a frown, and tried not to be jealous of the long-derezzed Yori, who was apparently still affecting Tron, even now. If things had gone differently, she and Tron would probably still be together – Tron was known for being devoted, after all, and he'd heard plenty of positive things about Yori – and Sam wouldn't have had a chance. They'd been a _dedicated_ _pair –_ a program term that was a little like slowly attuned soul mates and a lot like marriage – and Sam wondered, hoped sometimes, that Tron could attune to _him_ that way, too. Not for the first time, Sam wondered what it would be like to be part of a full dedicated pair with Tron.

 

Tron resumed speaking, and Sam made an effort to dial down the grin on his face at the daydream.

 

“The second major circumstance is related to my function, and practicality.” Here, Tron shifted his leg slightly, drawing attention to it, and the very scant circuitry on it compared to the broad stripe down Sam's. “Most of my circuits disengage during periods of alert. During downtime I have the option to re-engage them, but it's more expedient to simply leave them off, in the event of an emergency.” Shaking his head in exasperation, Sam huffed; leave it to Tron to sacrifice his own happiness in order to help the system.

 

“Can I see them, someday, these hidden circuits? Like, maybe when the security suite's finished and fully running again?”

 

Tron hesitated, then a playful look took over his visual output. He finished off his own drink, set the glass down next to Sam's, then stood. He grabbed the User's hands, then tugged him up, and further into the quiet club. “How about now? There's something I've had queued up to show you.”

 

“Works for me,” Sam followed along with a smile, again holding Tron's hand so he could stroke over the circuitry on the back of his hand.

 

Tron led him through an unmarked doorway, then through a series of hallways, unlit and dark save for their circuits once they'd passed far enough from the main room of the club, and the rippling blue glow – somewhat reminiscent of a swimming pool – of energy that flowed around under the clear floor tiles.

 

“I used to reactivate them from time to time, Before.” Tron spoke up suddenly, and Sam zeroed in on his phrasing; Tron had a certain way of emphasizing 'before' that turned it into a proper noun – a blanket name he used to mean nearly anything from before Clu's coup – and Sam's heart clenched a little, wondering if Tron had been prepared for battle when Clu made his move, or if he'd been trusting and fully circuited, that much more vulnerable when his friend betrayed him.

 

Tron abruptly turned into a doorway that Sam hadn't even seen, and suddenly there was light beyond the two of them again; evenly spaced throughout the room were relatively small pools, filled flush to the bottom of the unusually tall floor tiles with more luminous blue energy. Tron disengaged his hand from Sam's, then lightly guided the User by the small of his back to one of the pools, “You can get in if you'd like, but I suggest entering slowly; the sudden influx of energy can be... overwhelming, at first.”

 

Sam peered down into the liquid until he could vaguely make out the shape of steps, then brushed the toe of his boot over one of the gaps between tiles, “Did someone forget to grout, or something?” Instead of waiting for Tron's reply – which from the look of his face, wouldn't have been coming any time soon – Sam went ahead and stepped into the pool, and answered it for himself; the energy displaced by his body flowed outward along the tile gaps – canals, really – serving to further light up the room while simultaneously storing the excess energy.

 

Seeing as the energy hadn't 'overwhelmed' him yet, Sam hopped off the steps straight into the energy and- _Oh._

 

Tron caught him under the arms just as Sam was about to go under, then bodily lifted him halfway out of the water, then awkwardly shuffled along the edge until he could set Sam down onto a built-in bench; normally, Sam would have been embarrassed by this, or at least tried to help, but in that moment he couldn't _begin_ to think beyond his suit's _circuits_ and _energy_ and _Oh_. He settled onto the bench almost bonelessly, and he couldn't be sure, but Tron may have said a rather unflattering something, before walking back toward the submerged steps.

 

Several long moments later – which he was _never_ going to live down, not if Tron had anything to say about it – Sam acclimatized to the sensation, and graced Tron with a sheepish smile. Time for a deflection. “So, about those circuits?”

 

“Patience, Sam Flynn,” Tron quoted Quorra's favorite reply at him, and stepped down into the pool.

 

At first, Sam thought his eyes were playing tricks on him as the energy almost seemed to flow _up_ Tron's body, leaving behind lines that blazed with light; it wasn't until the first lines terminated, and the flow continued farther up that Sam figured out that something about slowly descending into the energy was activating all those hidden circuits. They were different than the circuitry of the programs that had been written for this system: thin, angular lines with a good portion of little dots, dashes, and other small marks, whereas this system tended to favor broad lines with the occasional circle. It marked him as different, the only surviving program from outside the system, though Sam had hopes for changing that with opening an internet connection; even Quorra's circuits followed the 'broad lines with maybe a circle' trend, marking her clearly as a member of this system.

 

He wondered, idly, how she and Anon were getting along.

 

Then Tron was settling on his lap, all those newly revealed circuits on the fast track toward amethyst, and all other thoughts evaporated.


End file.
